


Let The Right One In

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Drama, F/M, Smut, omega!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: He knows she’s an Omega and he won’t let himself give in. But can he handle it every time she leaves to find someone who can give her what she needs?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Reader/Others
Comments: 4
Kudos: 192





	Let The Right One In

It was his unspoken misery.

Living in close quarters with any Omega was hard as hell, not that he’d had much experience beyond what he was going through. Her scent touched everything in the bunker, almost like she was haunting him when she wasn’t physically there.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice distracted him from the hole he was staring into the wall, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, blinking and looking down at his untouched beer. “Just… y’know.”

“She went out again, huh?” The younger man slid into a seat opposite his brother, sighing at Dean’s closed-off expression. “Dude, you should just -”

“What?” Dean demanded, snapping his head toward him. “Man up, tell her how I feel? Tell her that every time she’s in heat, watching her walk out that door to find some other _fucking _Alpha, I’m dying inside?” He huffed, cheeks red as he sat back, folding his arms over his chest. “I can’t tell her any of that, man. You know it.”

Sam watched him for a moment, leaning his elbows on the table. “She probably doesn’t feel any better about it,” he pointed out. “But what are her options? Load up on medications or just let it kill her?” He left the third one out - he knew Dean didn’t want to hear it. Getting to his feet, he shook his head. “I’m gonna go to the store. You want anything?”

His only answer was a swift shake of the head. Hovering for a moment longer, he then turned his back and grabbed his wallet, leaving his brother alone to wallow.

The bunker fell silent.

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to think about where she was right then or what she was doing.

_Who _she was doing.

The beer bottle shattered when it hit the wall.

Her heats were getting worse. After four days, it finally eased off, and Y/N finally felt able to leave Grayson’s house… except Gray didn’t want her to.

She’d met him months before and it wasn’t the first time she’d gone to him for relief during her heat. He was nice - tall, broad, tanned, tattooed and bearded. They had plenty in common, even though she tried to steer away from too much deep conversation. She didn’t him becoming attached; she only wanted one thing from him.

And the others.

“Don’t go,” Grayson murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder. “I know your heat is over -”

“I have to go home, Gray,” Y/N insisted, pushing him off.

“We could talk,” he suggested, watching her get up and grab her clothes from the floor. They reeked of sex and Alpha - she’d have to buy some more and shower before she got back to the bunker. “I thought, I could take you out for breakfast.”

Gray was still talking.

Lifting her head, Y/N blinked at him. “Grayson, you know what this is. I’m not looking for that.”

He smiled like he hadn’t even heard her. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months,” he continued as she stared at him in confusion. “I thought we could talk about what this is. You’re a really great girl, Y/N. I feel like we could have a future.”

She turned, pulling her clothes on as she went. Her purse was by the door where she’d left it days before and she picked it up, intending on making a quick getaway.

The Alpha wasn’t letting that happen. “Y/N,” he grunted, grabbing at her wrist. “Wait.”

“Gray, I told you -”

“You’re being an idiot.”

Her jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

Gray smiled gently, releasing her wrist to cup her face. “I love you, Y/N.”

It took a second to realize that his proclamation was only a prelude to a kiss and she jerked back in horror, shaking her head. “I was clear with you,” she growled. “I told you when we first started this -”

“Things change,” he pushed, sliding his hands over her shoulders. “I know you feel it. We’re so good together.”

“We’re Alpha and Omega,” Y/N reminded him. “I don’t _want _that. I don’t want it with you, or any other Alpha.”

A darkness covered his face for a second. “I don’t like that you see those other Alphas,” he complained, releasing her shoulders but not stepping back. Y/N clutched her purse, staring him down in defiance as he pursed his lips in distaste. “It’s slutty.”

Her jaw clenched. “But it’s cool for Alphas to slam as many Omegas as they want, huh?” Anger got the best of her and she jabbed her finger into his chest. “Get this through your Cro-Magnon skull, Grayson. Nothing is going to happen. We’re _done _here.”

His expression went from shock to anger at her words. “You can’t speak to me like that.”

“What’s stoppin’ me?” she seethed.

“I’m an Alpha!”

Smiling cruelly, Y/N stepped back with her hand on the doorknob. “And what? That makes you better than me?” The look on his face said it all and she scoffed in disgust. “Yeah, I thought so. Ask me again why I wouldn’t let you claim me?”

She slammed the door on her way out, marching to her car, not daring to look back. Pulling away from the house with a squeal of tires, she held her cool until she reached the end of the street, sobbing into the steering wheel. Her tears clouded her vision, forcing her to pull over.

Gray hadn’t been all that bad, despite his true colors. It wasn’t _entirely _his fault - most Alphas were raised believing they were superior to Omegas, although you’d think by a certain age, they’d realize everyone was the fucking same.

But he’d been nice. Comforting. He’d known exactly how to touch her, how to make her feel good when her heat was at its worst.

Her mom would have called them “gentlemen in waiting”. Her friends would have cheered her for playing the field back in high school. The truth was, all of the guys she’d gone home with had nice qualities, they were just all lacking that one thing that would make her say yes.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

He knew it the second she came home. It wasn’t the rumble of her old truck or her footsteps down the hall. Dean could _feel _her in his bones, like a comforting presence that tore him to shreds. When she bypassed his room, he tried not to let it hurt - she had no reason to come to him for anything.

She always changed her clothes and showered before she came home. He was glad for that small reprieve. If he smelled another Alpha on her, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reign in his jealousy. But there was no washing away the lingering scent of sex or her heat.

Her bedroom door closed; Dean laid back, unbuckling his pants and pulling his cock free. It seemed like he was always hard around her and relief never seemed to last, not that it stopped him trying.

“Fuck,” he groaned, stroking his length, rubbing his thumb over the head. The sensation made him shudder, increasing the grip he had on himself. At the base of his shaft, the thick ring of his knot pulsed, eager for a warm Omega to sink into.

He closed his eyes, imagining her, spread out underneath him, skin soft and lit by the lamps in his room. She’d be so willing, so needy, it wouldn’t take him long to fill her completely, to sink his teeth into her throat where his mark belonged.

Dean spilled into his hand in under a minute, groaning at the intense relief. For a few minutes, he laid still, feeling his seed cooling sticky on his belly, realizing he had to clear up before she scented it. Even after her heat, she’d be sensitive to smells - he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

With a groan, he rolled over, wiping his hand on his shirt and using it to clean up. He dumped it in the laundry, grabbing the air freshener to spray the room quickly. Wiping himself thoroughly clean with a damp cloth, he stripped the rest of his clothes and dressed in clean ones, pausing when he was done to sniff at the air.

The silence let him hear it. One tiny sob, the sound making him perk up like a dog hearing a whistle. A frown pressed his eyebrows together and he moved to the door, opening it just in time to hear another. Stepping out into the hallway, he walked toward Y/N’s room, stopping right outside and pressing his ear against the door.

Her audible distress made his stomach roll uncomfortably. When he knocked, she went quiet, and for a second, he wondered if he was making a stupid mistake. “Y/N?” he asked softly.

There was a shuffling from the other side of the door before she answered. “What do you want?” she replied.

“Just checking you’re okay,” Dean muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. “I… I heard you crying.”

She sniffed loudly. “I’m fine.”

He knew better than to push. She didn’t wanna open up to him - she never had. He wasn’t going to force her to. “Okay,” he said steadily, placing one hand on the door. “Look, if you need…” _Anything_. “If you need to talk…” His confidence disappeared. “I can get Sam for you.”

A pause that deepened the void inside him began then, with her tiny ‘_thanks_’. Dean turned away, padding barefoot back to his own room, closing the door behind him. He was hard again but touching himself felt inappropriate so he rolled onto his bed and crushed his erection against the mattress and hoping he could get some sleep.

Soft knocking woke him early in the morning; instinct had him reaching for his gun until he heard her voice. “Dean?”

Dragging a hand over his face, Dean sat up, trying to work up words through his dry mouth. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can I come in?”

He nodded, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, sure, come in.”

She was quiet as she entered, peeking around the door first as if she was afraid of him. When she stepped inside, she left the door open, like she couldn’t quite trust herself.

Or maybe him.

“What’s up?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. Y/N hovered by the door, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She was only wearing sleep shorts and a vest - there was a bruise on her thigh that made rage bubble in his veins. “Everything okay?”

“I -” She shifted. “I had a nightmare.”

His hand flung the covers aside and he scooted back to make space for her. “C’mere.”

Y/N didn’t have to be told twice. Scurrying across the floor, she willingly climbed into his bed, snuggling up to him. Dean covered them both, wrapping his arms around her as she took comfort in his hold. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was just… really vivid.”

He nodded, pressing his face into her hair. “It’s okay. Wanna talk about it?” She shook her head, curling her fingers in his t-shirt. Pushing hair behind her ear, Dean exhaled softly, rubbing his hand over her shoulder. “You were gone for longer this time.”

“They’re getting worse,” she admitted, her tone a little standoffish. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

_Handle_. The word made his guts twist. “I worry,” he dismissed, trying to sound casual.

Her nose pressed into his chest. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

Dean blinked at the question. “What?”

She didn’t look at him, her hot breath filtering through his shirt to warm his skin. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

He sat up, gazing down at her as she avoided his eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because of what I do,” she mumbled, keeping her attention on her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Because I… I go to other Alphas and won’t let them claim me.” His chest tightened at her declaration and it took everything he had to not crow that she wouldn’t _let _them. “Gray said it was slutty.”

With a sigh, Dean laid back down, sliding his fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead. “He sounds like a jerk.”

“He wasn’t,” she whispered. “Not until… not until I wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”

“Is that why you were crying?” The question slipped from him before he could stop it and he felt her stiffen. “I’m just worried about you,” he murmured, not daring to look at her. “You’re gone for longer each time. I worry you’re gonna meet an Alpha that won’t… won’t respect you.”

Y/N sat up this time, meeting his gaze. “He wanted to mark me,” she said. Dean’s hand clenched around her waist. “But I didn’t want it. Shouldn’t I want that?”

His breath caught in his throat as he tried to decide on the right answer. She waited, watching him, her hand still clenched in his shirt, right over his heart. “You should want it with the right person,” he choked out, barely able to keep his eyes on hers.

For a second, he was acutely aware of his heart hammering right under her fingers. There was no way she couldn’t feel it. Dean stared at her, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, dry through nerves. When her lips twitched in a smile, he felt a small measure of relief, dashed when she moved away.

“The right person,” she mumbled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and turning her back to him. “What if… what if…” Whatever she was trying to say, she was struggling; Dean remained silent, giving her space although he longed to reach out and touch her, already missing the warmth of her against him. “What if the right person doesn’t come with the right time? Or in the right place?”

He didn’t know how to answer, even when she turned her head, tucking her chin into her shoulder as she looked at him.

“I know it bothers you.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Bothers me?”

“That I leave.”

He sat up. “You do what you have to do,” he said haltingly, the line he’d practiced in his head over and over for when this conversation finally happened. He’d spoken so many lies to himself, rehearsed them all. Told himself that he’d be able to handle it when in reality, he was about to fall to pieces.

She watched him, sadness in her eyes. “But I didn’t.” His heart thumped hard, blood rushing in his ears. “I could have taken the suppressants.”

“Half that shit gives you cancer,” Dean bit out, holding her gaze. “They don’t exactly work on the side effects.” He tilted his head. “And sure, you coulda just dealt with the heats. Except… that’ll eventually kill you too.” Reaching out, he placed his hand over hers. “You’re not a slut, Y/N. You need something.”

“I feel like I led him on,” she confessed quietly, not moving her hand from underneath his, her fingers twitching. “He said there was something between us. What if I didn’t see that?”

“Did you give him any reason to think there was a future there?”

Her answering laugh was bitter. “I’m about a blunt as a brick to the face.” He smiled at that. “But there’s never a future there. Not with any of them.”

For a moment, Dean was quiet. Then he shifted closer until his thighs were almost pressed against her ass. “There never is for me either.” When she looked at him then, her eyes shone. “You… you never came to me.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Because when I went to them and they tried to claim me…” She sighed, turning her hand over and slipping her fingers between his. “I could say no. Easily.” Her head shook when she laughed, though there was little to no humor in the sound. “But if you asked…”

He couldn’t ignore it anymore, the burning urge in his gut, in his soul, however tattered and damaged it was. His body almost curled around hers, nothing but their own stubbornness preventing them from falling off the bed as they shared a soft and intimate kiss.

“Dean,” she whispered, breaking the caress.

“If you told me not to ask, I wouldn’t,” he said, his free hand cupping the back of her head. Y/N leaned back against his shoulder, smiling sadly.

“I couldn’t do that to you.”

Desperation made him kiss her again but he could tell he was losing her. “I wouldn’t care,” he lied, knowing that he’d care more than anything if she could be in his bed but not wear his mark. That it would eventually break him if he knew they couldn’t belong to each other properly.

She pulled away, taking her heart with him as she got to her feet, abandoning him on the bed.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” she repeated, shaking her head, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disturbed you.” Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room and Dean watched her go, feeling like he was tied up into knots.

“Y/N.”

She stopped when he called her name and he sighed.

“You’re right.”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to change when she turned back to him, the tears falling freely. Dean slid across the bed, getting to his feet and moving to stand in front of her. He made no attempt to touch her, standing there silently for long seconds as he considered his words.

“I’m a liar,” he said slowly, fidgeting like he didn’t know how to hold himself. “And you deserve… so much more than the truth.” She tilted her head, looking up at him with a blank expression. His nerves surged up, making him feel like he was gonna faint or puke or something equally embarrassing but he pushed through, swallowing hard. “It kills me. Every time. But I got no right to tell you what you can and can’t do. You’re not my Omega. No matter how much I want it, I’m not your Alpha.”

“You - you want it?” she asked, surprise on her face.

Dean smiled, huffing in amusement at her lack of perception where it came to his feelings. “I _know _I didn’t hide it that well,” he chuckled.

“I thought it was just the scent of me… I thought it…” Her speech failed and she laughed at herself. “I’m an idiot. A slutty idiot.”

His hand caught hers then, holding it between them. “Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down.”

“Why don’t you hate me?”

He frowned at that. “Because we do what we do to survive. I’m not exactly a blushin’ virgin, sweetheart.” Brushing his thumb over her knuckles, he lifted her hand, kissing the tips of her fingers. “I’m not perfect,” he snorted, “far from it. And I’m not gonna get everything right. But I wanna try.”

Y/N nodded lightly, looking up at him through her lashes. Dean waited, giving her all the time she needed, even when the silence made him a little uncomfortable. She closed the space between them, pushing up onto tiptoes to press her lips to his softly.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

They didn’t mention that night or even acknowledge the conversation between them. It wasn’t for lack of wanting on Dean’s part, nor hers, they just never seemed to be alone. Hunt after hunt left them sharing motel room space with Sam and it wasn’t for another three weeks that they were finally back at the bunker.

He didn’t disturb her the first night they were home. All of them were exhausted and Y/N barely spoke two words to either of the brothers before she retired. It wasn’t until the next evening he understood why.

The itch started around midday. She had only emerged to grab food and a shower, her scent almost taunting him with how thick and rich it was. That made the itch worse and Dean became restless, flitting between the garage and the range, working on the Impala even though it needed no work and working on his aim even though that hadn’t needed work in years.

Sam noticed before he did. “Man, you are all over the place. Ants in your pants?”

His itch became more of an obstruction in his throat like he couldn’t get enough air. “Just a little wound up,” Dean dismissed, grabbing another beer from the fridge on his way through the kitchen. The answer was accepted and Sam went back to his crossword, ignoring the older man as he left the kitchen again.

He found himself in the library, standing among the books without a clue what to do with himself. Y/N’s scent was clinging to every surface, dialed up to eleven; Dean ditched the beer, wandering down the steps beyond the war room, stopping without thinking about it.

Her room.

She was in heat.

The itching scratchy lump in his throat eased as he drew closer to her door, placing his hand on it. Her scent was stronger than he’d ever smelled it, branding itself on every cell of his body. He inhaled deeply, clawing his nails at the wood.

It surprised him when the door opened.

Bracing his arms on the doorframe, he met Y/N’s dark eyes, taking in the sweaty state of her skin, the way she shook as she stared at him. When she stepped back, silently inviting him in, he kept calm, taking measured steps into the room, waiting until she closed the door.

“You’re in rut,” she whispered, pressing her back to the door when it was shut.

Dean hadn’t really put a name to it but she was right. “Not completely,” he muttered, feeling his own skin prickle with sweat. He was standing in her space, surrounded by _her _\- it wouldn’t be long before it his rut was full-blown. “You’re in heat,” he commented.

“It’s early.”

Taking a step closer, Dean left only a few inches between them, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. Her vest was soaked through, her panties not faring any better and he could smell how wet she was. His growled “_Omega_” took both of them by surprise but by the dilation of her pupils, it was fair to say she was as affected as him.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave if she told him.

“Is this me?” she asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Is it because…”

“Do we need to label it?” he interrupted, taking her face in both his hands. “I want you, Y/N. I want you so bad I can feel it in my bones.” He pressed his lips to hers, gasping when he tasted the salt on her skin. “Tell me to stop. Tell me I can’t.”

She smiled, shaking her head, returning his kiss with one of her own. “I don’t want to.”

Dean felt like he was walking in a dream when she took his hands and led him to her bed. The sheets were a mess, screwed up in the middle like she’d been turning herself into a burrito. “Nesting?” he asked and she gave him a shy look as she pushed the covers aside, crawling onto the bed on her knees.

“Getting comfortable,” she defended, tugging him onto the bed with her. He kicked his boots off, pushing her down onto her back to seize her in another kiss. “You’re wearing too much.” Her protest made him chuckle under his breath.

A knock on the door made both of them freeze. Sam cleared his throat, his voice muffled through the wooden door. “I’m gonna go out and let you two work out your… issues.” Y/N and Dean stared at each other, neither of them breathing or moving. “Just… don’t kill each other.”

“Sure thing, Sammy,” Dean called out.

Footsteps moved away from the door and Y/N giggled when he leaned in a brushed his nose against hers. “We’re working out issues?” she asked and Dean smirked in reply.

“One way to put it,” he murmured, one hand sliding down the side of her body, his thumb catching in the hem of her panties. “Am I still wearing too much?” She nodded, her fingers digging into the waistband of his pants. 

“Yes,” she panted, “take it off.”

“Which part?”

“You’re a dirty tease.”

Laughing under his breath, Dean pressed in for a chaste kiss, scrambling off the bed to strip out of his clothes. Y/N watched him, peeling her vest top off, her panties following within seconds. They connected again when he kneeled on the edge of the bed, both of them meeting in harsh kisses and the skin on skin contact they craved.

“Lie down,” she whispered, pushing him onto his back. He groaned as he obeyed, cock stiff and bouncing against his belly. His eyes were dark, following her movements as she straddled his knees, leaning down to wrap her fingers around his shaft, stroking him from root to tip. Sticking out her tongue, she dragged it over his swollen crown, smirking when his body jerked in pleasure.

Y/N kept stroking him when she took him deeper into her mouth, his girth bulging out her cheeks. Dean panted heavily, lifting his head to watch her touch him. He kept his hands at his sides, giving over complete control despite his desire to force her down and fuck her like an animal.

She released him with a wet pop. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m a little pent up,” he ground out, his cock twitching in her hand. “Need you.”

Her sly smile made his insides heat up. “Can I…” She bit her lip, removing her hand from him, crawling up the length of his body. “Can I ride you?” Dean only nodded, complete awe on his face when she positioned herself in his lap, using her slender fingers to press his tip into her warm cunt.

It took everything he had to hold back as she sank down, her body enveloping him inch by inch. Her ass came flush with his thighs and she stopped, releasing the tiniest of whimpers as she felt him buried deep.

Lifting his hands, he cupped her tits, massaging and kneading them as she adjusted, her hands on his belly. The slight roll of her hips almost made him choke on air; Y/N grinned at the reaction, repeating the movement to receive it again.

“You’re so warm,” he hummed, squeezing her nipples between his fingers. “So wet for me, baby.”

His soft speech encouraged her and she moved faster, feeling the spark of her own climax starting to build. Dean’s hands dropped from her tits to her hips, holding her in place as she rocked on top of him, watched her with rapt attention.

Her body was so warm against his, the scent of her mixing with him, combining them together into something new that he couldn’t get enough of. It answered a craving he’d never fully understood, and he pulled her down, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

Y/N pressed a hand against his face, her tits crushed against his chest as they kissed. “I want it too,” she murmured. “Want your mark, Dean.”

He was lost and found right then. Sliding his fingers through her hair, he rolled them so she was underneath, not breaking the gait. Y/N whined loudly, baring her throat as she started to cum. Dean didn’t even attempt to resist when he felt his knot thickening inside her.

She screamed when he sank his teeth into her neck, irrevocably marking her as his. Her body shuddered as they came together, descending into lazy kisses as they remained entwined. “You’re mine now,” he growled, dragging his tongue over the mark he’d left, ragged and red, still bleeding. It would scar but it would never fade.

Rolling them onto their sides, he pulled her leg up over his hip, keeping her close until they could separate. He wasn’t sure he’d let her go even then.

“I want yours,” he whispered against her jaw.

She turned her head to look at him, confused by the request. “My what?”

“Your mark,” he clarified, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I know it’s not…”

“Yes.”

Dean paused, blinking at her. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled, rubbing his nose against hers. “Next round?”


End file.
